


after is always hard (but not unbearable)

by DemiStorm



Series: we are made from stars (not all stars were made to last) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dissociative Episode, How Do I Tag, I blame blackkat for this, I don't have a cohesive timeline so i made one, I swear, Kinda, Multi, Polyamory, The Author Regrets Nothing, but probably not enough of them, canon? i don't know her, description of dissociation, i mean...., oh!, snape is important for like, thats a lie, the author has some regrets, two lines so far but he has significance later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 21:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemiStorm/pseuds/DemiStorm
Summary: This fic is absolutely 110% blackkat's fault but I am pleased with the end result





	after is always hard (but not unbearable)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/gifts).



> This fic is absolutely 110% blackkat's fault but I am pleased with the end result

“James?” Regulus's voice was rough, shaky still from the poison in that fucking basin. He hadn't gotten through the door yet, the unsteadiness of his legs just a little too much. He doesn't notice the signs of something being wrong until he sees the couch on its back, and Lily's favorite houseplant knocked over, dirt scattered across the floor. He starts to run, adrenaline overpowering the ache in his body and sees James, blood still pooling and draining from his arm, glasses somewhere on the floor and eyes unfocused. He's not panicking, not yet, he has to make sure James isn't dying first. He casts a stasis charms before he notices. Lily- Lily isn't in the living room, neither is Harry and that means upstairs, with the wards, and he is skipping steps in his rush. Oh, Merlin's beard, please let them be safe! His wife and son need to be safe, otherwise what was all of this for? He knew he should have told them that Pettigrew had possibly met with the Dark Lord, was likely a dirty traitor, to change the secret keeper to Sirius like they'd originally planned, but he hadn't. He hadn't told them, and now it seemed he would pay for that grievous mistake. And then, he was upstairs. He was upstairs and he could hear Harry crying. His son, their son, was crying and Lily wasn't singing or cooing, or hushing him, which meant- Lily was dead. Lily was dead, and Harry was crying, and was he- was Voldemort still in there? Was he still in the nursery, was he waiting for Regulus to walk in there, waiting to kill him? He had frozen outside the door, right hand reaching to push it open, wand in his left at the ready and Harry was still crying.   
_No, no. Voldemort would have killed Harry, would have been annoyed by the crying, he doesn't know I'm here._  
“Kreacher!” He called the house elf, and he popped into what was previously empty space.   
“Kreacher, please, get someone- anyone who could help!” The house elf nods, disapparating to get the help that Regulus has asked for so desperately. He pushes the door of the nursery open, and Harry’s cries quiet down as he sees a familiar face.  
“Da! Da! Pita hur’! Mama fall ‘own! I got a owie!” Harry’s voice is soft, words seeming too loud. He sees another body on the floor, and later, later he’ll wonder how Voldemort was killed, but. But. For now, he will worry about Harry, who has a cut on his forehead branching out like a lightning strike and blood dripping down his face. For now, Regulus will listen to Harry babble about biscuits and Lily and James and clumsily asking who the man in the cloak was while he carefully wipes blood away. He can hear footsteps in the living room, but he feels so detached from everything that is not the toddler in his arms, and he is barely even phased when a voice he’d nearly forgotten hisses out a shocked,   
“You.” Severus Snape, he recognizes distantly, and Harry clings tighter to him, wary of yet another strange man.   
“Me,” Regulus agrees, turning around to face him. “What are you doing here, Snape?” The other man scoffs, looking at him disdainfully.  
“More like what are you doing here, Black? Last I recall, you were dead and loyal to the Dark Lord to the end.” Regulus shakes his head, not quite ready to brush past Snape without at least closing Lily’s eyes. Kind, fierce Lily who had loved him so much and so well, who had loved all three of them. Her boys, she’d call them when they were able to sit together. So, he bends down, and asks Harry,   
“Mum’s gone to sleep for a long time now little one, but she forgot to close her eyes, D’you want to help me?” And Harry, the sweet boy that he is nods and says quiet as he can,  
“Yes, Da.” And they reach out together, closing Lily’s eyes for the last time, and Regulus’s tears start in earnest now. He doesn’t care about Snape’s shocked gasp, doesn’t care about the fact that Snape knows. What’s the point of hiding it, now? When Lily is dead and- James. His head shoots up, and he secures Harry’s tiny body in his arms as runs down the stairs to make sure that- that James is still alive, still there, to see if Kreacher had arrived with help, and when he makes it into the living room he sees Kreacher with a sour look on his face playing helper to an Andromeda Tonks who has just arrived, he feels like he can breath just a little lighter.   
“Andy, Andy, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.” The tears haven’t stopped, in fact it feels like he’s crying more, crying harder, but he can’t help it. He never thought he’d see his oldest cousin again. Never thought that she would come help him. Never thought- well. He’d never thought a lot of things, simply put.   
“Oh, of course I’d come when Kreacher showed up in my living room, saying that you needed help. What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into these last few years, little star?” Regulus sits on the floor, the couch too far away and still on its back, adrenaline crash leaving him exhausted.   
“A much bigger one than I ever thought it would be, cousin. So much bigger.” He cradles Harry closer, tucking the toddler’s small head into his chest to shield him from the awful sight the living room makes. He doesn’t want to speak anymore, he’s tired and Harry is falling asleep in his arms. Regulus is starting to drift too, but he is fighting so hard to stay awake. Both for Harry and to avoid the dreams.  
“Little star, you need to sleep. I don’t know what you did before coming here, but you look ready to visit the morgue.” Andy’s tone is frank, like he remembers from when they were kids. Regulus makes a poor attempt at laughing, but it sticks in his throat.  
“I can’t sleep, Andy. Not now. Not- not after-” His voice breaks, and Harry sleepily pats at his chest, trying to comfort him. Regulus feels- weak, almost. Maybe it’s because he couldn’t have gotten here a week ago, maybe because he can still feel the effects of that thrice-damned poison, maybe some combination of the three. Maybe something else entirely. Andy hums, too busy at James’s side to give him a hug.  
“Well, if you won’t go and lie down for your own sake, do it for their sake’s. I doubt this one,” she nods her head towards James even as she works on stitching up one of the worse cuts. “Would be much pleased to hear that you hadn’t been sleeping, and the little one can’t just stay in your arms all night, now can he?” Regulus. . . Does not want to admit that she may have a point. “Kreacher, would you be a dear and make sure James drinks the potions I brought?” Kreacher looks at him, and Regulus nods.   
“Fine. Fine. I’ll- I’ll go upstairs, and I’ll lay down with Harry, and I’ll get some sleep.” The if I can is very clear, and Regulus lifts himself up on shaky legs to head up the stairs. Going up the steps feels like climbing a mountain, and not just because of his exhaustion, of his weakness. No, no, it’s because if he makes it to their bedroom then- than that’s it, and this is. It would really be happening and Lily would be dead, and James would be far too close to death for his comfort. Harry, their son, by Merlin, Morgana and Arthur, their son had somehow managed to defeat Voldemort! He was still in diapers, entirely too young to understand anything happening right now.   
He makes it up the stairs, somehow. The bedroom door is open, showing an unmade bed big enough for all three of them, Harry and the cat. Regulus lays Harry down first, making sure he won’t be able to roll off the bed, before he lays down and curls himself protectively around Harry. Footsteps in the hall, and some distant corner of his mind seems to be aware that there is more to reality than Harry, but he can’t be bothered to pay attention. For now, Harry is everything and maybe… just maybe Harry is the only real thing, even including Regulus himself. He’s not entirely sure he wants to be real right now. So he closes his eyes, and allows his mind to roam. Within minutes, he is falling asleep. Before he’s gone completely, he thinks he hears his brother’s voice say something in a near manic tone. He hopes that Sirius doesn’t do something stupid. Then again, most of the things Sirius does are stupid, so.

**Author's Note:**

> This seems like a good stopping point! that and my muse decided to fucking die at 11:30 for specifically this part of the series.


End file.
